


The Haddock Legacy

by LittleLucy



Series: Life on Berk [1]
Category: Dragons: Riders of Berk (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-24 11:17:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 13,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6151951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLucy/pseuds/LittleLucy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story takes place before the first How to Train Your Dragon film and will follow Stoick through his youth up until his death.</p><p>That's about all I have to say on the subject for now. Maybe sometime in the future I will have the inspiration to write a real summary....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not really followed any rules when naming my characters. Most of the names are Norse, some of them are completely made up and random.....and as to specific families I am not going to have every single Thorston's name end in "nut" or every Jorgenson end in "lout"....I just cannot bring myself to do that.

The last days of dragon training were nearing. The decision was soon to be made. The village was anxiously awaiting the answer to the question they were all asking, many of them taking bets on who would win the honor of killing the Monstrous Nightmare. The leading candidates were Stoick, Alvin, and Gobber. These three young men were at the top of their class and no one could guess who would win. They all had the skills necessary to be the best.

Of course, Stoick had already killed more than one dragon despite only being fifteen years old and not having completed dragon training yet. There was no keeping that boy inside when the dragons attacked. And he absolutely refused to be on fire patrol and carry buckets of water.

The chief, Squidface the Terrible, was holding out hope that due to his experience, Stoick would indeed be the champion of his class. But Alvin was not far behind him in skill and Gobber had been known to take Stoick down in a wrestling match on more than one occasion.

As the three friends made their way down to the dragon killing arena one bright early morning, their peers steered clear. They were like legends among the teenagers...well, Stoick and Alvin were...and most all the kids their age and younger were in awe of them. Stoick's cousin Spitelout didn't care two hoots about either of them, and certainly wasn't in awe, but that was another story.

"I bet I win today!" Alvin socked Stoick on the shoulder.

"I could beat you with my eyes closed," Stoick boasted.

"Eh, careful now," Gobber laughed. "You know Alvin can take you down if he has a mind to."

Stoick shrugged. "I don't believe it. And anyway, the winner isn't chosen based off of hand to hand combat. It's who is the best dragon fighter."

"Which is obviously me." Alvin said.

"Ha!" Stoick scoffed. "How many dragons have you killed Alvin?"

"Well there was that Gronkle--"

"Now hold on," Gobber interrupted, "The way I remember it, that Gronkle would have killed you if the chief hadn't shown up."

"Nonesense! I killed the beast didn't I?" Alvin asked.

"Only because my father pinned him down." Stoick said. "I've killed dragons without someone holding my hand to help."

"No one held my hand!" Alvin protested, swinging his axe in Stoick's direction.

"You do that again and I'll take your head off."

"I'd like to see you try!"

Stoick dove at Alvin and their weapons were soon discarded as they began to wrestle. Gobber began to whistle and trotted on down to the arena. "You can't win if you aren't there!" He called back to his two friends. They either didn't hear him or ignored him.

Spitelout picked up their weapons when he walked by the wrestling friends. "I'll take these, if you don't mind."

Still, they didn't notice anyone around them.

Most of their peers had already gone down to the arena. But one stopped to watch them for a moment. "You two are complete idiots."

They were instantly on their feet, dusting each other off awkwardly.

"Valka...uh...hi." Alvin stuttered.

"We were just...uh..." Stoick shrugged. "You know..."

"Being ridiculous?" Valka asked. "Come you two, down to the arena. The chief would not be happy at all if his two best recruits didn't bother to show up to training, especially when one of them is his very own son."

The boys sheepishly followed Valka down to the arena.


	2. Chapter 2

The crowd that gathered to watch the final day of dragon training consisted of basically everyone on the island. Squidface the Terrible sent an extra glare in Stoick's direction when he came skulking in behind Valka and Alvin.

"Kind of you to show up," he mocked. "Now, into the arena, all of you!"

Stoick, Alvin, Gobber and Spitelout entered the arena. The rest of the teens huddled in the tunnel leading to the arena to watch what would unfold. Today the champion would be decided by the village Elder, Gunvor Haddock, so only the top recruits were going to be a part of the exercise. Those huddled in the tunnel were Valka, Adelaide, Calder, Egil, Gerd, Gull, Brenna, Fell, Finn, Snuffnut, Mulch, and Bucket.

"I think Alvin is going win," Fell Ingerman said.

"Not a chance," Calder Hofferson replied. "Stoick will."

"But the Elder is his grandmother...isn't that cheating?" Adelaide  Skovgaard asked.

"Are you accusing the Elder of being dishonorable?" Valka asked. "How could you possibly think something like that? Besides, Gunvor was a Gulbrandsen before marriage. Gobber is a Gulbrandsen. Would it be cheating if she chose Gobber?"

"Get ready!" Squidface yelled as he opened the cage that held the Zippleback.

Spitelout crouched and lifted his bludgeon. Stoick swung his axe in a few tight circles.

The teens crowded to the gate that was between them and the arena. The crowd of adults and children surged forward around the outside of the arena to see the action.

The Zippleback burst from it's cell in a thick cloud of green smoke-like gas. As the gas spread throughout the arena, the four young men disappeared from view. The crowd strained forward, anxious to catch any glimpse of the young warriors. They could hear grunts and see the occasional shadowy outline of the dragon, but for a long time that was all.

Suddenly the gas ignited in a magnificent flash of fire and Spitelout could be seen flying through the air. He hit the wall of the arena with a crack, earning a gasp of sympathy from the crowd.

As the smoke cleared, Stoick could be seen pinning one head down and Alvin was desperately trying to capture the other head but was having great difficulty in doing so.

Gobber ducked under the swinging tail of the dragon, jumped up onto it's back and clambered up onto its neck. The dragon turned its head as far as it could and tried to bite Gobber. It missed.

While it was distracted by Gobber, Alvin jumped as high as he could and gave the dragon a mighty whack with his mace. The head dropped to the ground, senseless.

"That's enough!" Squidface yelled. Several vikings leaped into the arena and dragged the half senseless dragon back into its cell, while one head was spewing gas everywhere in its fury.

Stoick, Alvin, and Gobber solemnly lined up before Squidface to await the declaration of the winner. Spitelout had been knocked out by his crash into the wall and was still lying on the ground at the edge of the arena.

Squidface turned the boys to the side of the arena where Gunvor was sitting. He put his hand on Gobber's shoulder. Gunvor shook her head. Then the chief put his hand on Alvin's shoulder. Gunvor hesitated long enough that the crowd grew agitated.

"Well?" Squidface asked.

Finally, Gunvor shook her head.

Laying his hand on his son's shoulder, Squidface looked to Gunvor in question.

Gunvor nodded solemnly. "Yes, Stoick is the champion of this year's dragon training class."


	3. Chapter 3

As the entire village feasted in the Great Hall that night, Squidface the Terrible proudly roamed the crowd, receiving congratulations at his son's success with no humility at all. The villagers didn't really mind though. They much preferred his arrogance to his anger. If Stoick had lost there would be no telling what Squidface would have done.

The teenagers were all crowded together at one table, though there were enough of them to fill two tables at least.

"I really thought you had it, Alvin!" Fell said.

"Gunvor's long pause was ridiculous," Brenna Bergman said. "We all knew Stoick was the winner."

"Hey now," Gobber laughed. "I think I had a fair chance myself."

"You were never even close, Gobber." Spitelout scoffed.

"Says the boy who ended the match unconcious," Valka teased.

This comment received much laughter from the other teens.

"How do you plan on killing the Monstrous Nightmare?" Calder Hofferson asked.

Stoick shrugged. "With a hammar, I suppose."

"Yeah, but what is your strategy?" Calder insisted.

"Kill it." Stoick said simply.

Valka rolled her eyes. "Well that is a very detailed plan, isn't it?"

"I don't make plans before battles." Stoick said. "Things just happen once the fight has begun. I work off of instinct and gut reactions."

Even after the feasting was long over and most of the adults had dispersed throughout the village, the teens stayed together in the Great Hall discussing Stoick's final exam and speculating on how he would accomplish killing the dragon.

When they finally broke up the party and decided to call it a night it was very late. The stars were shining in the black sky, and the wind had an icy bite in it.

"I hope it doesn't snow tomorrow," Adelaide Skovgaard said. "That would be just terrible."

"Stoick could use the snow as cover," Brenna said.

As the teens broke up into groups of two or three and wandered home, Stoick found himself alone. His house was up on a hill across from the Great Hall, far from the other homes on Berk.

As he walked up the steps to his house, his father opened the door. "There you are, son. Come with me."

Squidface strode swiftly away from the village towards the thick woods. Stoick followed with a sigh.

After they had walked for some time, Squidface spoke. "You have done the Haddock family proud, Stoick. Don't disappoint me tomorrow."

"I won't, sir."

"But you are nervous about your final exam."

Stoick didn't answer.

"I know you well, son. But you have no need to fear the dragons; not the one you shall meet tomorrow, not the ones you shall kill throughout your future. You can do anything, Stoick Haddock; anything you put your mind to."

"Yes, father."

"Do you see this large stone, Stoick?"

"Yes."

"Bang your head agianst it, as hard as you like."

Stoick gave his father a look of confusion, but he didn't question him. He picked up the large stone and dutifully smacked his head against it. Much to his surprise, the massive stone cracked right down the middle. Stoick was left standing there in surprise, with two stones in his hands now, instead of one.

Squidface placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "Remember that, Stoick. Whatever you face in life, remember that stone. It is the symbol of all that you are. You are going to be a great man, a great leader, a great dragon-slayer."

Squidface and Stoick returned to their house without saying another word.

That night, Stoick hardly slept. He had so much to think about. He had been the champion of his class in dragon training and there were so many emotions that went along with that accomplishment that it was hard to quiet his mind. And then, he'd split a massive stone in half with his head. That stone had been heavy enough Stoick knew there were few his age who could have lifted it off the ground (Alvin and Spitelout perhaps), but more than lifting it off the ground, Stoick had split it in two with his head!

That's what a viking was.

He could split boulders with merely his head.

He could crush mountains.

He could level forests.

He could tame seas.

That was who Stoick was going to be. All of that and more.


	4. Chapter 4

Stoick hadn't slept a wink all night, so when dawn began to approach he got up. All was quiet in his house, and the village was silent. It was a cold morning, the air crisp and clean. Stoick grabbed his axe and left his house, wandering through the village. He stopped by a cliff overlooking the docks and watched the sky lighten. The sun had not yet appeared, but morning was nearly here.

"Did he have anything nice to say?" A voice asked.

Stoick turned and watched Valka walking toward him. "My father?"

"Last night, when he took you into the woods."

"He said he was proud of me."

"Of course he is, and he should be. You fought well."

"Valka, last night, while we were in the woods....there was this stone--"

"What is that!" Valka interupted, pointing toward the horizon.

"The sunrise?"

"No, look."

Stoick looked. "Dragons!"

They turned in sync and began running through the village. "Dragons! Everyone up! Dragon attack!"

It was not the pleasantest way to start the day, but it was not an unusual occurrence. The villagers were soon roused from their sleep. By the time the dragons reached Berk they were all up and grabbing their weapons.

It was only a small raiding party, no more than twenty dragons. They were taken care of--killed or scared off--within thirty minutes.

"Now that that fun is over," Squidface said, "Let us all go down to the arena. It is time for Stoick's final exam!"

This anouncement was met with many cheers. The teens surrounded Stoick and dragged him off down toward the arena.

"Try not to get eaten," Spitelout said.

"But if you do get eaten, make sure it's entertaining for those of us who have to watch," Adelaide said.

"You're all very encouraging this morning," Stoick rolled his eyes. He brushed past his fellow classmates and entered the ring, stopping just inside it.

The villagers were gathering. He could see his father seated on the Chief's throne directly across from him, above the arena. His grandmother Gunvor, the Elder of the village, was seated next to the chief on his right, and his mother Helga was on his left.

Stoick felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Valka again.

"Good luck, Stoick."

"Thank you."

"It's time!" the chief called out. The gate was shut and Stoick was locked into the arena. He walked straight to the display of weapons in the center of the arena. The display was made of an old slab of wood and had hooks in it to hold the various weapons. This was the deciding moment. Which weapon would he choose? He'd intended to use a hammer, but somehow he found himself more drawn to the axe this morning. So that is what he chose.

Slowly, the cage was opened. And then the Monstrous Nightmare burst forth in flames. It darted around the arena, spewing fire everywhere. The villages ducked and dodged out of the way of its flames.

And then suddenly, it noticed Stoick. It dropped to the floor of the arena and approached him slowly. There was a moment of calm, as Stoick and the dragon circled each other slowly.

Then the dragon darted forward spewing fire and Stoick jumped straight forward, over the flames and drove his feet into the dragon's head. The Monstrous Nightmare stumbled backwards. Stoick ran forward and swung his axe at its neck. The dragon swiped Stoick's feet out from under him with its tail, however, and so Stoick's blow fell short.

Stoick scrambled to his feet. The crowd was cheering and shouting and being generally distracting. The Monstrous Nightmare set itself ablaze and shot forward, snapping its jaw around Stoick's left arm. He grimaced, but made no sound. The crowd gasped. Raising his axe with his right hand Stoick brought it smashing down upon the dragon's neck. The dragon's jaw slackened, and Stoick pulled his bloodied arm free of its mouth. He gave the dragon's face a solid kick and then brought his axe smashing down on it one more time.

It was definitely dead.

The crowd erupted with shouts and applause.

Stoick looked to his father, and he could see the smallest bit of a smile there on his father's face. His mother was no longer seated beside his father.

Stoick came out of the arena amid shouts and cheers. His mother was suddenly beside him. "Hold still, lad. You've got some nasty cuts here. Odin's beard, what a bite! Come on, let's get you cleaned up. Back to the house, son."

Helga led her son away, and Stoick could hear his father calling to the villagers, "Let's get this mess cleaned up. We should have caught ourselves one of those Monstrous Nightmares this morning. We're going to need a new one for the next dragon training class."

 


	5. Chapter 5

It had been three days since Stoick's final exam and the dragons were once more descending on Berk. The stars were hiding behind thick clouds and the cold wind was biting every inch of bare skin on every viking.

Stoick's arm had not yet healed from his fight with the Monstrous Nightmare, but that mattered not. Every available viking had to help protect Berk and that included every one of the teenagers that had just completed their dragon training. The job of water patrol had been passed down to the next group, and Stoick saw his young cousin Keld Haddock--only nine years old--rushing to put out fires. The stars were hiding and the moon was nowhere in sight, but there was plenty of light to see by as three homes burst into flames and the fields lit up with dragon fire.

Stoick caught sight of a Gronkle making off with a yak and made a dash for it.

Elsewhere on Berk, the other teens were holding up their own against the dragons--well, most of them were. Alvin and Gobber were working together to take down a Zippleback, and were clearly winning. Calder was chasing a Deadly Nadder that had taken off with three sheep through the village, and Brenna Bergman was helping him.

Spitelout and Snuffnut had a Gronkle each, the sisters Gerd and Gull were working together to defeat a Zippleback.

Mulch wasn't out amongst the dragons for long before he had three Nadder spines stuck in his arm and he was herded off to the healer's hut. Bucket went with him. Bucket, whose name had been Magnus at birth, had unfotunately had his skull cracked when he was four years old by a dragon. Said dragon also managed to get his head stuck into a bucket which no viking had yet been able to remove from the poor kid's head. Thus, the name Bucket.

Egil Thorston and Fell Ingerman were on the catapults with their fathers, taking down dragons from a distance.

Adelaide was running around the village, jumping into a fight with a dragon and then backing out and picking a different fight and then changing her mind and chasing down a different dragon. She wasn't getting anything accomplished, but she looked like she was a great warrior as she darted around taking swings at all the dragons within her reach.

Finn Hofferson had heard the cries of "Dragon attack" and had been out in the plaza almost before anyone else had been. The first dragon to catch his eye was a Gronkle, and he had charged it without the slightest hint of fear. Finn hadn't placed very high in dragon training, and he was determined to make up for that. Finn wrestled the Gronkle to the ground as it picked up a sheep and then continuously battered its head with his bludgeon until it finally sank to the ground, senseless. He'd then noticed the Nadder that was chasing Mulch. He reached it just as it sent its spines flying (three of which pierced Mulch's arm). With a mighty war cry, Finn charged the beast and faster than lightening had it senseless on the ground like the Gronkle before it. The next dragon to catch his eye was a Monstrous Nightmare. Only the best vikings went after those, but Finn wasn't at all afraid. He wasn't going to kill this one. The chief had said they needed a new Monstrous Nightmare for the next dragont training class, and so Finn Hofferson was going to catch one for him. That's when it began to snow.

Stoick had killed two Gronkles and was surveying the village to see what dragon needed to be dealt with next. That's when he noticed Valka. She was crouched beside the well. A Zippleback was hovering over her, letting a stream of green gas out of one head and sparks from the other. But it wasn't igniting the gas, and Stoick couldn't understand why. But the pause of the dragon was the perfect opportunity and Stoick waited for Valka to raise her mace and take advantage of the dragon's hesitation. She did begin to raise her mace, but then she lowered it again. She was staring at the dragon curiously. The dragon decided it had waited long enough, and let its spark ignite the gas. Stoick didn't wait a second longer. He charged the dragon from behind and in his blind fury had both heads lopped off before he knew what was happening.

He turned to Valka and held out his hand to help her up. "You shouldn't have hesitated." he barked. She was staring at him with the strangest expression on her face. He didn't have time to analyze it though. There were other dragons to be dealt with. He was off in a shot, and engaging a Nadder in a deadly fight.

By the time the dragons were dealt with, the snow was falling heavily. It helped to put out some of the fires. However, the wind picking up did not help. Squidface surveyed the village around him, assessing the damage and what would need to be repaired and rebuilt.

"Everyone to your homes or the Great Hall to wait out the storm! It looks like it will be a long one. We'll begin rebuilding when the weather clears up."

Most of the vikings chose to go the Great Hall. This had been the first real raid since dragon training had been completed and all the adults had many things to say of the teenagers they had seen in action. The night came and went and still everyone was huddled in the Great Hall, praising the fearlessness of Finn Hofferson and the bravery of Stoick Haddock. There was praise for many of the other teens as well, but those two had the most songs sung about them that night. Finn's Monstrous Nightmare had been taken down to the empty cage in the arena by Squidface himself.


	6. Chapter 6

The weather cleared up the afternoon after the raid, although the thick snow remained on the ground, and the rebuilding of Berk began. The rest of the day was spent in tearing down structurally unsound buildings and rebuilding them, repairing homes and fences that needed mending, and searching for all the farm animals that had made a bolt for it when the dragons burned down their pens. Most of the teens were put on the search for the animals.

Stoick was tired after chasing down yaks all day, but there were still several animals unaccounted for and before they could say the dragons had taken them they had to be absolutely sure the animals were nowhere on the island.

Wandering the woods shouting for yaks, Stoick was growing hoarse.

"You know, they won't actually come to a shout like that," Valka fell into step beside him. "If you are going to call a yak, then you need to call a yak, not shout at them like they're human." To illustrate her point, Valka let out a noise that sounded disturbingly like a yak.

"That was the strangest thing I have ever heard come out of your mouth, Valka."

"Yak calls work better than just shouting."

"Yak calls?" Stoick asked laughing.

Before Valka could respond, they both heard the unmistakable sound of a yak. Valka's face lit up. "I told you!"

They headed in the direction of the noise and soon were herding the yak toward the village.

"By the way, Stoick...I never thanked you, for saving me last night."

"What were you doing with the Zippleback? Why didn't you go after it when you had the chance?"

Valka looked at her toes. "I don't know..."

Valka was no coward, she'd shown no fear during dragon training, and Stoick knew she could hold her own as well as the next viking. Something was going on here, but he hadn't the least idea what.

As they drew closer to the village, it began to snow again.

"It looks like there is going to be another storm," Stoick said. "We'd better get the rest of the animals to the barn."

This was no sooner done than the storm hit the village. Vikings completely unafraid of dragons made frightened dashes for their homes.

The village barn was located some distance outside of the village. The wind was picking up and Stoick had some difficulty shutting the barn door. He finally managed it, letting out a grunt of frustration. When he turned around he realized he could no longer see the village. The air was pure white and full of swirling flakes as big as a dragon's eye. He could still make out Valka, standing beside him. Her arms were wrapped around her torso and she shivered uncontrollably.

"I don't think I wore appropriate clothing for this weather," she laughed through chattering teeth.

"Here," Stoick reached over and wrapped his massive frame around her shivering body. "This should help."

"Thank you, Stoick."

"It's impossible to see, but we can't stay here in the weather. We could try to get to the village, or we could bunk down in the barn...which would you prefer?"

"The barn is closer...but the village will have more heat." Valka shrugged. "I don't care, Stoick."

"Well then, I say we try to find the village. It's a small island, and we know exactly which direction the village should be...I don't think we'll get lost."

And so they began their trek in search of the village walking side by side, Stoick keeping his arms around Valka's shoulders, trying to sheild her from the wind and cold. They made slow progress through the snow.

"St-stoick, are w-we l-lost?" Valka asked, teeth chattering.

"No."

"Sh-shouldn't w-we have h-hit the village b-by now?"

"We're fine. I'm sure we're almost there."

As soon as these words were out of Stoick's mouth his feet gave way beneath him and his was falling....falling...falling. Farther and farther, faster and faster. With a crash and a groan he hit the wooden platform of the docks.

"Valka?" He sat up, trying to see through the snowy storm? "Valka!" He couldn't see her, so he felt around in the nearby snow. Nothing. "Valka!"

After ten minutes of vainly searching for her, he reluctantly made his way down the docks. It was easier to keep track of where he was now, because he could feel the wood beneath his feet. There was a storage area nearby, cut into the rock of cliff face, and that was Stoick's destination. It would be some shelter from the cold. Keeping one hand on the cliff beside him, Stoick walked slowly along, still occasionally calling out Valka's name. The wind seemed to catch hold of her name, swirl it around, and then throw it back in his face.

Eventually he found the storage compartment he'd been looking for and crawled inside. It was a bit cramped, but it would have to do.

When Stoick had slipped, Valka had been knocked off of her feet as well. Her stomach had hit the side of the cliff as they fell and she'd managed to cling to it. Stoick must have fallen all the way to the dock, because no matter how she yelled for him she received no answer. She scrambled back over the side of the cliff and crawled forward a few feet.

What to do now? She would surely get lost if she wandered about. She had no way of finding shelter, no protection against the cold.

She curled up into a tight little ball on the ground and cried. This was the end, she was sure. There was no way she could survive this night. They'd find her frozen body in the morning...not even in the morning. It was a massive storm. It would be weeks before they uncovered her frozen body, buried in the snow. And Stoick...Stoick had probably died on impact from his fall off of the cliff. Who would be the future chief now that Squidface had no heir?

Suddenly Valka became aware of a presence. She was sure there was someone nearby. She held her breath, stopping her crying. "Hello? Is there someone there? Please, help me!" She whimpered softly. "Please."

Valka felt something warm wrap around her; it was warm but it was also scaly and hard. She gasped. She was sure it was a dragon. She was going to be eaten! Now they wouldn't even be able to find a body. They'd never know what happened to her.

She felt warm breath on either side of her face. Great. That meant two heads. It was a Zippleback. She tensed, terrified, and simply waited to be eaten.

And waited.

And waited.

She could hear the wind howling around her, but it no longer touched her. The snow was falling, but she was protected underneath the dragon's wings and body. No wind, no snow, no cold, nothing could get to her. Occasionally she thought she faintly heard someone calling her name, but it was so quiet, so distant, that she must have imagined it.

An eternity passed.

The howling of the wind stopped.

Then, the dragon unwrapped its wings and flew away, leaving Valka alone and confused. Why hadn't it eaten her? The sudden bite of the cold air against her skin took her breath away. It was so cold! But the storm had passed. Everywhere, in every direction as far as her eyes could see the world was sparkling. The sun shining on the piles and mounds of snow was so bright that it brought tears to her eyes. She had to squint to see around her.

There was the village! Not 100 yards away. And there was grandmother Tone coming out of her house, and Calder Hofferson stumbling out of his, looking around with a wide smile on his face. The storm had only just cleared, and everyone was coming out to see if the world had survived.

Valka glanced at the sun, and noticed it was nearing noon. That meant the storm had lasted throughout the night and the morning. And she was alive! And warm, no less. Not a frozen corpse after all.

Valka began running toward the village. "Grandmother Tone! We need to get a search party together! Stoick was out in the storm, he's lost out there. He fell off the cliff and he's down by the docks somewhere!"

It was only a matter of minutes before the entire village was aware of the situation and beginning to form a search party. That's when Stoick appeared, calling out, "Has anyone seen Valka? She got lost in the storm! We need to search for her!"

"I'm fine, Stoick!" Valka ran and gave the future chief a hug. "How did you survive the fall?"

"It wasn't that far of a drop," Stoick shrugged. "I waited out the storm in the storage room. What about you?"

"Oh, I found shelter." Valka shrugged and said no more. And no matter how anyone pressed her for more information, she never told a soul how she had survived that storm. In quiet moments of reflection by herself, Valka decided that the Zippleback must have been the same one that she had interacted with during the dragon raid, the one that hadn't killed her. They had stared at each other in silence and would have stayed that way for all eternity probably if Stoick hadn't decided to show up and try to kill it. Valka was convinced within herself it had come back for her.

But why?


	7. Chapter 7

Well, months had passed and the weather had begun to clear. As Berk began to thaw, fathers began to get into a competitive mindset.

"I saw Egil Thorston out lugging sheep yesterday," Squidface said to his son Stoick one night at dinner. "I think it's about time you started training for the Thawfest Games."

Stoick shrugged. He was tall and strong and broader than most of the boys his age. But there wasn't an ounce of fat on him, it was all muscle. He didn't feel the need to train. He was better than all his peers.

Of course, Stoick had never actually won the Thawfest games. But that was entirely beside the point.

"I think we'll start tomorrow, son." Squidface meant business and Stoick knew it.

Sure enough, the chief had his son up at the crack of dawn the next day. "Come on, it's never too early to start the day! We've got some training to do!"

As Stoick was dragged off toward the forest with his father, he noticed several other teens suffering the same fate. Squidface found a stray sheep, plopped it onto Stoick's shoulders and nodded towards the woods. "I expect you to run with this sheep--"

"across the whole island," Stoick interrupted. "I know."

"Then you'd better get moving, boy."

And so Stoick ran.

It was not long before he was joined by Spitelout. "I don't know why you even try, Stoick, you know you never win Thawfest and you never will."

"That's because I don't try," Stoick said. "If I cared, I could beat you."

"Keep telling yourself that," Spitelout laughed.

"I did just place first in Dragon Training, so don't get too proud of yourself, Spitelout."

"Dragon Training fame lasts only until the next class has a champion of their own...once you win the Thawfest Games, you go down in history!"

The Thawfest Games was a tournament held once a year during whatever spring Berk could boast of (which really depended on the year, honestly). There were three competitions: the sheep lug, where contestants were required to lug a sheep for a specified distance; the axe throw, where skill and accuracy were measured; and the log roll, where contestants had to walk on a rolling log for as long as they could without falling off. The Games were meant for the youth of Berk to test the skills and abilities of the next generation of Vikings, and to add a friendly competition to the many things Vikings had to fight about. Generally, the contestants were ten to eighteen years of age. Although some Vikings stopped participating before they turned eighteen. Spitelout, at thirteen years of age, had already won the Thawfest Games three years in a row. And nobody cared.

Before Spitelout had been old enough to participate, it had been Alvin who won the Thawfest Games, and nobody cared then either. The Thawfest Games were fun, and yes medals were even given out. But the Chief cared more for dragon killing than for lugging sheep and so even though the Games continued to be held their popularity was waning. No one, except the Jorgensons, actually cared that there was a three year winning streak.

That wasn't to say that people were not competitive and that parents didn't force their children to train day and night for the Thawfest Games...they were Vikings, after all.

Stoick had been running for a good hour by now. He heard familiar footsteps behind him and called over his shoulder without looking back, "Do you think we should try to beat Spitelout this year, Gobber?"

"Nah, nobody cares, Stoick. Even your Dad doesn't!"

"I suppose that explains why he forces me to train hard anyway."

"Well, he is the Cheif, Stoick. He has a reputation to uphold. The fact that no Haddock has won the Thawfest Games since he was a youth has got to be at least a little annoying." Gobber shrugged, "But then, you just won Dragon Training, so I don't think he's going to be too worried this year."

"Well that's a relief."

"Alright, I'm done. I've been lugging sheep all morning it feels like. My back hurts! I'm heading back to the armory to make some more weapons. Do you want to come with me?"

"If my Dad sees me back in the village while it is still morning he'd probably kill me."

"Now, Stoick, don't be so dramatic! He wouldn't kill you. He'd just...ah...you know, chop off a leg or something."

"That's comforting."

"Ah, it could be worse. A dragon could eat you whole!"

"You are a cheerful fellow this morning, aren't you?"

"heh, that's what I'm here for. To keep up your spirits! See you later, Stoick."

"Bye, Gobber."

Stoick shook his head and kept running. The poor sheep on his shoulders was getting very tired of being jolted around. Stoick stopped running and sat down, setting the sheep on the ground. It took off running for home the moment its feet touched the ground. Stoick ignored it, surveying the woods around him. It was quiet and peaceful. But that wouldn't last long. Another day or two and there would be dragons trying to steal their food again, a fight would break out between several Vikings over some petty thing or other, a late storm could hit and have them all locked in their homes for weeks with little food or supplies. Such was life on Berk.

As Stoick sat and stared at the world around him, not really seeing it at all, he suddenly noticed a slight figure moving gently through the trees. She was graceful as she darted from tree to tree, suddenly scrambling up one and then leaping down another. What was she doing?

It was Valka.

As she danced through the trees, oblivious of her audience, she let out a joyous laugh. It was a lovely sound and it filled the woods and bounced back from the boulders in the distance. Stoick watched her until she disappeard from sight. He still had no idea what she was doing, running through the woods and climbing trees like a crazy person. She had twigs caught in her hair and he thought her face had been smudged with dirt, but how could one really tell from the distance? Maybe it had only been a shadow. Still, it was slightly odd behavior.

Shrugging, Stoick got up and began walking back to Berk. He'd better find a sheep and start lugging it around the island before his father saw him. What Valka did in her spare time was really none of his concern.


	8. Chapter 8

The morning of the competition dawned bright and clear. The crowds made their way down the arena where the Thawfest Games would take place. The teens jostled and teased each other as they followed the masses.

"I am going to win again," Spitelout said. "None of you can beat me."

"I think it is more of, no one _cares_  to beat you," Alvin said.

"I think you are just a sore loser," Adelaide said. "You can't stand to lose to Spitelout, you just hide it."

Alvin rolled his eyes. "Sure."

When all of Berk had gathered, and all of the teens were assembled inside the arena, Squidface called for silence. "The Thawfest Games are about to begin!"

This was met with a loud cheer.

"We will start the competition off with the sheep lugging competition."

Another cheer.

"Line up!"

The teens lined up on one end of the arena, behind a line that the Elder Gunvor had painted. Each teen was given a sheep, which they easily hefted onto their shoulders. Well, it wasn't that easy for all of them. Fourteen year old Gerd Nordskov could barely lift her sheep. Her younger sister Gull helped her get it onto her shoulders.

"Are you ready?" Squidface called down to the teens from his seat above the arena.

The teens bent their knees in readiness, Spitelout bouncing on his toes in eagerness.

"Go!"

The teens had to lug their sheep from the starting line to the opening of the tunnel that led into the arena. It was a short sprint, compared to all the running they were forced to do in preparation for the sheep lug.

To everyone's surprise, it was not Spitelout who won the sheep lugging race.

"One point to Valka Agnarsson!" Gunvor called out.

The teens' faces had been painted on the stone wall of the arena (and what ugly paintings they were!) and a simple line would be painted beside the faces of those who won a competition to denote the point they had been given.

Brenna Bergman wrapped an arm around Valka's shoulders, "and that, boys, is how you lug a sheep!"

"You just got lucky," Spitelout whined.

"Now who is a sore loser?" Alvin laughed, giving Valka a high five.

"Next is the axe throwing!" Squidface called out. Several of the teens helped to set up the targets at one end of the arena, and to pull out the chests of weapons from storage so there would be enough axes for everyone.

When Valka was left alone during this interval, Stoick went to speak to her. "Well done."

"Thank you."

"I didn't know you could lug sheep like that."

"Well, the sheep was kind of heavy...but running is something I love to do. So that was easy. Brenna and I made a pact last night that we would do everything in our power to beat Spitelout. No one really cares about the Thawfest Games, but still...his arrogance is getting a little annoying."

Everything was soon assembled for the axe-throwing competition and the teens lined up once more.

"Ready?" Squidface asked.

Each teen picked up an axe. Stoick noticed that Valka could hardly lift hers. He doubted she'd be winning this competition. Brenna seemed only slightly more competent with an axe.

"Go!"

The first of the axes were thrown. Any that missed that target were out, and those that hit the target would have another turn.

"Valka, Gerd, Bucket--you're out!" Gunvor called out.

Valka, Gerd, and Bucket moved off to the side to watch the rest of the axe-throwing. As she passed Brenna, Valka gave her hand a squeeze, a silent plea to win.

"Ready? Go!"

This time, as no one had missed the target, the contestants were judged on how close to the center of the target their axe had landed.

"Gobber, Adelaide, Fell, Mulch--you're out!" Gunvor said.

The remaining teens reached for their next axe.

Gobber crossed his arms and leaned against the stone wall of the arena. "Spitelout will win this one. Neither Stoick nor Alvin are good at distance throwing; they're more of hand to hand combat fighters."

"Both the Hofferson boys could prove to be stiff competition, though," Fell said.

"I'm personally shocked that Gull and Brenna are still in," Gerd said.

"I'm betting Egil, Snuffnut, Gull, and Brenna will all get out this round," Gobber said. "And Stoick and Alvin will be next."

"Ready?" the Chief called, "Go!"

"Snuffnut, Gull, Alvin--you're out!" Gunvor said.

"You were half right," Valka said to Gobber.

"That Brenna though," Fell shook his head, "She must have been practicing awful hard the last few days. She's never been that great with an axe."

"Ready? Go!" Came the chief's voice again.

"Stoick, Egil--you're out!"

The teens watching on the edge of the arena leaned forward eagerly, and the crowd was no less interested. The only teens left in the competition were Spitelout, Calder, Finn, and Brenna.

"I told you the Hofferson boys would be stiff competition," Fell said.

"But who knew Brenna would be!" Snuffnut laughed. "I think she's going to win."

"Nah, she won't win," Gobber said. "She's been struggling to throw the last two axes. Look at how her hand is shaking now as she tried to hold the axe steady. She's tired."

"Ready? Go!"

"Brenna, Finn--you're out!"

"Woohoo!"

"Way to go, Brenna!"

"You're the viking!"

"QUIET!" the chief thundered, hushing the teens. "Save the congratulations until the competition is over. Spitelout, Calder, are you ready? Go!"

"Calder, you're out!" Gunvor said. "Spitelout wins a point!"

This announcement was met with cheers. But the only people cheering for Spitelout were the Jorgensons. Most of Berk was shouting praise to Brenna Bergman, because Fell was right. She'd never been good with an axe.

The last competition was the log roll. Two massive logs were brought into the arena and the teens clambered up onto them. They were set to rolling and the teens struggled to run on top them without falling off. This was not an easy thing to do. The log roll was always the shortest competition. It only took a matter of seconds to decide a winner.

It was Spitelout.

"That's right, I won again! Spitelout, Spitelout--oy, oy, oy!"

Spitelout, with two points, had won again. He was presented with his medal. Then all of Berk retired to the Great Hall to talk over the day's events. Most of the talk circled around Valka, who had actually won one of the competitions, and Brenna, who had put up an amazing fight in the axe-throwing competition to everyone's great surprise.

"You were amazing, Brenna," Calder said. "Simply amazing."

"She didn't win," Spitelout said. "I did."

Everyone ignored Spitelout.


	9. Chapter 9

It was a cool evening, but not cold, and as the sun began to set Stoick and Valka sat on the steps leading to the Great Hall.

"It is almost time for the summer babies to begin being born," Valka said softly. "I love this time of year, but it scares me too. So many don't live..."

"Maybe this summer all the babies and mothers will live." Stoick said. He did not like it when Valka was worried--which was often--and he did not want her to cry. He never knew what to do when Valka cried.

"I hope so. Ash Jorgenson is as large as a pumpkin! I think she's carrying twins."

"Wouldn't that be something? I'm looking forward to Gyda Hofferson's baby. You know she was a Haddock before marriage."

"I know. I wish that..." Valka's voice trailed off. She was staring intently at the skyline.

"What is the matter, Valka?"

"Stoick...what is that? It is like the lights that come to the sky in the night, but it's different. More blue...and it is already past the season when the lights cover the sky."

Stoick looked where she pointed, and indeed the sky was beginning to light up in a strange blue way that did somehow resemble the northern lights but wasn't quite the same.

"I've never seen the sky do that," he said. "Or have I? I think I remember..."

Valka jumped when the chief was suddenly heard shouting, "Arvandil's Fire! Everyone to your homes! The Flightmare is coming!"

Stoick and Valka were instantly on their feet.

"The Flightmare?" Valka asked. "I thought that was just a tale my father told."

"They say it appears every ten years," Stoick said. "I remember it, Valka, from the last time it came. Don't you?"

"No, I don't remember the Flightmare."

"You'd better get home right away, Valka."

"Where are you going?"

"To my father. He doesn't hide with the rest of Berk. He defends it."

"Be careful, Stoick!"

Stoick ran to the plaza in the middle of the village. His father was there, directing people to their homes, picking out a few warriors here and there to stand with him.

"Dad!"

"Stoick, get inside. The Flightmare is coming!"

"I know. I want to stay with you; I want to defend Berk."

Squidface looked his son over carefully. "Well...perhaps you have earned the right to stand by my side."

"Chief! Can I stay with you too?" It was Finn Hofferson who spoke, coming to stand beside Stoick. "Please, sir. I am not afraid."

Squidface sighed. "I cannot have all of you teenagers under foot. This dragon is tricky. No one has ever been able to kill a Flightmare."

"We won't be under foot," Finn insisted. "You won't know we're here."

Finn grabbed Stoick's arm, "Come on, we'll wait by cliff over the docks."

They waited, listening to the chaos in the village as people ran for their homes and shouted to each other to 'take care' and to 'look after so-and-so' as they took cover. What sort of dragon was this, Stoick wondered, that could send Vikings running and cowering in fear.

The Flightmare's unmistakable screech was soon heard. It was coming from the opposite side of the village, to the north.

"Come on, Stoick!" Finn hefted his axe and began to run. "Let's go kill a Flightmare!"

The Flightmare flew over Berk, hovering now and then when it caught sight of a Viking out of doors and then it would dive at them with great speed. Just as Finn and Stoick reached the place where they had last seen it, it was zooming off in another direction screeching as it went. The dragon was so bright that Stoick could barely keep his eyes on it without them watering. It was a brilliant blue from what he could tell, and it seemed to emit light from its body--very, very bright light.

"We'll never catch it," Stoick huffed, nearly out of breath from running. "We need a different strategy, Finn. We can't keep chasing it around town!"

Squidface and the Vikings he had picked out to stand with him were manning the catapults and sending them flying after the Flightmare. One or two hit their mark and sent it screeching into the sky. A few of the catapults missed the dragon and fell harmless to the ground, rolling through the village. A few of them crashed into unsuspecting houses, sending Vikings screaming into the streets to take shelter in their neighbors' homes.

Stoick decided to join his father and the other Vikings at the catapults. Finn, however, continued to chase the Flightmare all through the village until dawn. He never caught it. As the sun began to rise and Arvandil's Fire faded from the sky, the Flightmare disappeared on the horizon.

Squidface sighed. "He's got away again. Without a scratch, too. Well, it's time to count the dead. How many did the Flightmare take this time?"

The Vikings gathered in the Great Hall and a roll call was taken. It was discovered that Dragonbreath Haddock and Stoke Hofferson had both been killed by the Flightmare. Dragonbreath had been young Keld Haddock's father, and Stoick was worried for the boy. It was not uncommon for there to be death on Berk. It was a very integral part of their lives, really. But it was still not easy to take. Keld had a younger brother, Olavo, who was only seven years old. Stoke Hofferson was Gyda's husband, who would have been a father in a few months' time.

After that, Squidface directed men to rebuild the homes that had been accidentally destroyed by catapults. Later in the day a feast was given in honor of Dragonbreath Haddock and Stoke Hofferson and tales were told of the great deeds they had done in life, and so they passed into legend.


	10. Chapter 10

A few weeks after the Flightmare incident, the first of the summer babies was born. Hertha Nordskov gave birth to a son, who she named Darby. It had been three whole years since a newborn had survived on Berk, so the presence of a baby was a festive occasion. It was new and different. Yes, it had only been three years since the last living child...but three years on Berk was a lifetime.

The night of the baby's birth, the dragons returned.

Stoick was wrestling a Deadly Nadder to the ground for Alvin to kill. Out of the corner of his eye his noticed Valka's house burst into flame. Keld Haddock grabbed a bucket of water, as was his job, and ran toward the house. Stoick thought nothing of this. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

The Nadder was snapping at Alvin, trying to take his arm off (and failing), when Stoick realized that the fire of the house was moving towards Keld. Not in the way a fire would move, but slithering forward...

like a Monstrous Nightmare.

Keld seemed blissfully unaware of this as he charged forward eagerly with his little bucket of water.

"Keld!" Stoick leaped away from the Nadder, leaving Alvin to fend for himself, and ran toward Keld.

Keld halted suddenly, and turned towards the sound of Stoick's voice.

"Keld, duck!"

Keld stared at him in confusion. In that moment, the Monstrous Nightmare darted forward. Stoick was too far away to stop it. He watched in horror. He was sure the dragon was going to eat his cousin and there was nothing he could do about it. But much to his surprise, the dragon merely knocked the nine year old boy onto his back. It growled in Keld's face, and then looked up to glare at Stoick. Stoick didn't hesitate. He threw his hammer and he threw it hard. The dragon took to the sky to avoid the impending danger, and the hammer hit the ground with a thud.

Stoick, stilling running, finally reached Keld. He pulled the boy to his feet. "Are you alright?"

"I-I...I think so."

"You have to pay more attention, Keld." Stoick handed the now empty bucket back to his little cousin.

"Thank you, Stoick."

"Just be more careful, Keld."

When Stoick had abandoned Alvin to save Keld, the Nadder had very nearly killed Alvin. It had him pinned to the ground in no time. Just as it was preparing to take a bite out of him, however, Gobber had made an appearance, knocking the dragon off of his friend. The Nadder had responded by biting Gobber's hand clean off.

He cried out in pain, and stumbled to his knees. Alvin, furious at his friend's injury, attacked the dragon with new vigour and had it killed by the time Stoick had Keld back on his feet.

Alvin then abandoned the battle field long enough to escort Gobber to the healer's hut.

"Will you be alright, Gobber?"

"I'm fine, Alvin. Get back to business, will ya? There's still dragons to deal with."

"But your hand, Gobber..."

"We're Vikings, it's an occupational hazzard. Now get back out there!"

When the dragons were all either dead or gone, the Vikings began to stumble back to their homes in exhaustion. It had been a long night.

Stoick suddenly found himself wrapped in the unmistakable violent bear hug of a mother Viking. "Oh, Stoick, I could never thank you enough for saving Keld."

"All in a day's work, Aunt Tove."

"I know...but still, thank you! I've just lost his father, I...I couldn't stand to lose one of my boys. So thank you, Stoick. Thank you so, so much!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think my violence is very graphic....but I'd like the opinion of my readers. Should I have a Graphic Depictions of Violence warning or not? It doesn't seem too bad to me, but I'd hate to shock a reader who unsuspectingly read my work and found it more violent than they wanted. Any thoughts?


	11. Chapter 11

It was time for Berk's annual Regatta, when fathers and their children would design and build their own boats and then sail them across the harbor. The boat race was one of the more exciting things that happened on Berk, according to some; and one of the most boring things that happened on Berk, according to others.

Stoick loved the Regatta. Last year Langely Hofferson had won, with his sons Calder and Finn. Squidface was determined to win this year, and Stoick was just as determined as his father.

Most of the youth of Berk were busy with their fathers for over two weeks as they built their own boats to race across the harbor. The docks were filled with teasing, laughter, banter, and a great deal of criticism.

"Hey, Ove, do you think your boat will make it across the harbor this time?" Squidface asked Fell's father. Fell's face blushed red, remembering when his father's boat had sunk last year. The sad truth was, the Ingerman's boats usually sank. They just weren't great shipbuilders.

One evening while everyone was working on finishing up their boats, only days before the Regatta was scheduled to take place, the dragons returned.

Stoick was finishing carving the dragon's head on the helm of his father's ship when a much more realistic dragon's head appeared and bit the wooden head right off of the ship. Stoick jumped backwards in surprise. It only took a glance to see that the village was once more overrun with dragons. Such was life on Berk.

Stoick whipped a knife out of his boot and dove for the dragon that was now coughing up the wood it had tried to swallow. He slit its throat while it was occupied with coughing. One Gronkle down. Who was next? Stoick began running for the storage compartment near the docks, as that was the closest place he would find a weapon other than the knife in his hand. It would take too long to go back to his house or even to the armory.

Valka was in the forest, lying on her stomach on the ground watching a beetle crawl along the forest floor when she heard the shouts of the villagers and knew that the dragons had returned. She leaped to her feet, and then paused. What good could she really do? She was no fighter. She had no desire to kill the dragons. 

Creeping to the edge of the forest, Valka watched the vikings and dragons in desperate battle. She saw Finn charge a Monstrous Nightmare and chop off its head. She saw Gobber and Alvin fighting back to back fending off three Gronkles by the sheep pen. Gobber was using his new hook, the one that had replaced his hand the dragons had eaten in the last dragon attack. She watched in horror as one of the Gronkles took a bite out of Gobber's leg and he fell to the ground.

Valka ran forward then, running toward Gobber and Alvin. Alvin was still trying to beat back the other two Gronkles. The one that had eaten Gobber's leg had taken off with a sheep and disappeared. Valka dropped to the ground at Gobber's side.

"Gobber!"

"I just need to get to the healer's hut," Gobber bit out through gritted teeth.

"I can't carry you!" Valka cried. She looked around desperately, but everyone within a short distance was occupied with a dragon or two. Alvin was still fighting the two Gronkles. What was she going to do? Gobber was going to die right here and it would be all her fault.

"I can crawl, lass." Gobber choked out. "Don't fret." And crawl is exactly what Gobber began to do. 

"Valka, cover him," Alvin said, tossing her one of his axes. 

Valka caught the axe and held it with trembling hands. She wasn't sure she could do this. Gobber crawled desperately through the dirt and Valka followed him, keeping an eye on the dragons. But none of the dragons bothered them. Not a single one. When they finally made it to the healer's hut, Valka collapsed to the ground and began to cry. The tension in her shoulders was causing her great pain and the panic and stress of the dragons in general, and Gobber's lost leg...she couldn't handle it anymore. So she cried and cried while the healer helped Gobber to a seat and began to stitch up his wounded leg.

When the dragons were gone, many of them dead, but many of them quite alive and carrying away livestock, Stoick came to the healer's hut to see his friend Gobber. He wasn't expecting to find Valka curled up in a ball outside the hut.

"Valka?" Valka looked up, her eyes red, her cheeks dusty with wet muddy tracks made by tears covering them. Stoick sat down beside her. "Are you okay?"

"No."

"What's wrong?"

"I hate this."

"What?"

"All of it! I don't like all the killing and I don't like that Gobber lost a leg and I hate everything!"

Stoick put his arm around her shoulder, trying to comfort her. "You don't hate everything, Val."

Valka took a deep breath. "I know. I just hate killing."

"We have to defend ourselves against the dragons."

"Well maybe they're just defending themselves against us."

"Valka! Are you on the dragons' side here?"

Valka shook her head. "No. Of course not. I just don't like violence." But inside, Valka began to wonder. Was she on the dragons' side? There had to be another way. Killing the dragons wasn't helping anything. It was only making it worse. There just had to be some other solution to their problem. What that solution was though, Valka had no idea.

Gobber soon had a peg leg to go along with his hook for an arm.

In a few days' time the Regatta was finally held. The vikings gathered on the docks to watch with enthusiasm as the boats sailed across the harbor. The Ingerman's boat did indeed sink, although it stayed afloat longer than the previous year's boat. Snuffnut Thorston and his father Steinnut were the winners of this year's Regatta, much to Squidface's chagrin. 

 


	12. Chapter 12

Over the course of the summer three more babies had been born, all girls. Audhild had been born to the recently widowed Gyda Hofferson; and Embla and Eydis (twins) had been born to Stark and Ash Jorgenson. Valka could breathe easy, because they were all healthy babies, and none of the mothers had died.

Not long after the Regatta, another joyous occassion occured. Kelby Kristofferson married Solvi Thorston.

After the wedding there was an all village meeting. Valka and Brenna sat on the wall that bordered the steps leading to the Great Hall waiting for the meeting to finish. 

"That was a beautiful ceremony," Valka said.

"Yes, it was." Brenna said. "And I suppose we'll be next."

"Surely not! We're still quite young."

"Yes, but there's no one older than us and the Nordskov girls, so we're as likely to be the next married off as they are."

"Do you have someone in mind, Brenna?" Valka teased.

Brenna blushed. "No, of course not."

"I think you do."

"Well I know who you will be marrying."

Now it was Valka's turn to blush. "I don't think the Chief's son is thinking about getting married any time soon."

"Perhaps not, but when he does we all know who he is going to pick."

"You don't know that," Valka insisted. "Besides, I don't think I'd make a good Chief's wife. Not a Chief of a dragon killing tribe."

"What other kind of tribe is there, Valka?"

Valka shrugged.

"You'd have to go far, far away to find a place without dragons."

"It's not the dragons so much as the violence that I want to get away from."

"It's just life, Valka. Everywhere has violence."

The meeting inside finished, and villagers began to stream out of the Great Hall in hordes. 

"What's the news?" Valka asked when she saw Stoick coming out of the Great Hall.

"There's going to be another search for the Dragon's Nest. The ships will leave in the morning," Stoick said.

"How many?"

"About a hundred men and women. Your mother, Valka, and Brenna's father are going. My father is too."

"How long do they think they'll be gone this time?" Brenna asked.

"They don't know. Last time the ships went out they were gone for two months."

"I hope they aren't gone that long this time," Valka said.

"I just hope no one dies this time," Stoick replied.

"Please, Odin, protect them," Brenna whispered.

Everyone gathered at the docks to see the ships off. About half of the village was leaving, and the other half had simply to go on with their lives as if nothing was amiss, waiting and hoping for the return of their family and friends. It was rare, very rare, that the ships that went in search of the dragon's nest all returned. There was always at least one ship gone, and many lives lost, when they came back to Berk.


	13. Chapter 13

Stoick was restless. He'd been sitting in the Elder's hut for three hours as she gave him lessons in diplomacy, courtesy, heraldry, the laws of Berk and so forth. Generally Stoick's education as the Chief's heir was less formal. When his father was on Berk Stoick would spend a few hours a week shadowing his father and learning from example. But right now Squidface was with the ships searching for the Dragon's Nest and so for the past three days Stoick's grandmother, the Elder Gunvor, had forced him to sit in her hut for hours on end while she tried to make up for the lack of education he was apparently receiving under his father. Gunvor was not at all pleased with the way that Squidface was choosing to educate Stoick. So whenever Squidface was absent, Gunvor took Stoick's education into her own hands. Much to Stoick's chagrin.

Gunvor finally closed the book sitting before her on the table where she and Stoick sat. "Okay, lad. You can have some free time."

Stoick bolted out of her hut and sprinted down to the armory. Gobber was there, humming to himself as he worked. Gobber's father Magnus was also there.

"Afternoon, Stoick. Did our dear Elder finally let out out for the day?" Magnus asked.

"Yes, I'm finally free."

"That good," Gobber said. "I've been killing time down here waiting for you."

"You boys go on and get out of here," Magnus said cheerfully. "Gobber and I aren't working on anything too pressing right now."

"I wish my grandmother was so lenient," Stoick complained.

"She's just trying to help you, son." Magnus laughed.

"Yeah, well...it isn't any fun."

"Come on, Stoick," Gobber grabbed his arm. "Let's go find Alvin and do some hand to hand combat, shall we?"

Stoick's aspect brightened. "That is a good idea, Gobber."

They found Alvin with Finn and Calder outside the Hofferson home.

"Hey, Stoick, Gobber!" Calder was excited. "We've been making plans; you should definitely join us!"

"Plans to do what?" Stoick asked.

"Go camping," Alvin said. "We're going to get some supplies, and then go exploring Berk and spend a night or two out in the forest."

"You will come with us, won't you?" Finn asked.

"Of course we will!" Gobber said. "When are we leaving?"

"Right now," Alvin said. "So get some supplies and meet us back here."

"On it," Gobber started to walk away. "Aren't you coming, Stoick?"

"I am not sure grandmother Gunvor will want me leaving, even for one night. She's set on trapping me in her house until my father's return."

"Then don't tell her you're leaving," Finn said. "We're boys. No one will question our reckless decisions."

"But shirking one's duties is not a good way to set an example to the villagers," Stoick commented. "And should you really be missing for a few days, Calder? You're an assistant teacher at Dragon School!"

"Oh lay off it!" Alvin sighed. "It's not like you're the Chief. If you're coming, go pack. If not, leave us alone."

"He's coming," Gobber said. "I'll make sure of that."

"And as for Dragon School," Calder added, "I'm only an assistent. The school isn't going to stop without me there. They have three instructors and Adelaide will still be there as an assistant. They'll be fine."

It wasn't long before the five boys were tramping through the woods together. 

"How far are we going before we set up camp?" Gobber asked.

"A long, long ways," Alvin said. "As far as we can go before sundown."

"Did anyone bring any fishing gear?" Gobber asked.

"Yes, we did," Calder said.

"Do you think we should hunt some wild boar?" Gobber asked.

"Gobber, if you don't pipe down and quit the questions, I'm going to clobber you," Alvin said.

"Piping down," was Gobber's reply.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!! Sorry it's been so long since I've posted!

Stoick watched the clear, bubbling water of the stream as it flowed past his feet. Calder was sitting beside him, fishing pole in hand. They both had their bare feet in the stream.

“Catch anything yet?” Alvin demanded from behind them where he was sitting against a tree beside their tent, sharpening his axe.

“Not yet,” Calder replied.

“I’m going further downstream,” Finn announced. He had been sitting up in a tree watch the futile attempts to catch a fish. Now he leapt down and grabbed his own fishing rod that was leaning against the tree that he’d been sitting in. “I’m going close to the mouth of the stream, where it enters the ocean. That’s where the fish tend to be.”

“I’m coming with you!” Gobber said.

Calder shook his head “You’re too impatient. We’ll catch plenty of fish from here.”

“I’ll catch more,” Finn replied.

Calder grinned. “Is that a challenge?”

“Yes.”

The brothers grinned at each other and then Finn and Gobber set off down the stream.

“You better catch a lot of fish,” Alvin told Calder. “Finn won’t come back til he’s got more than we need just so he can show you up.”

“I know,” Calder laughed.

“Got one!” Stoick said.

The thin string attached to the fishing rod began to tremble and Calder yanked it from the water. Stock reached out and grabbed the wiggling fish and pulled it off the hook, tossing it into a nearby basket. Calder threw his line again.

Alvin leaned forward to see the fish in the basket. “That’s not very big.”

“It’s not size that matters,” Calder said. “It is quantity. We’re keeping every fish we catch, regardless of size. We have to if we want to beat Finn.”

Alvin shrugged and resumed sharpening his sword.

It was a cool morning, the second morning since the boys had abandoned their responsibilities and ran off to the woods. A breeze gently roughed the surface of the water of the stream and ruffled the boys’ hair.

As the morning wore on and more fish were added to Calder’s basket, Alvin began to clean and gut the fish and prepare a lunch. Near noon Finn and Gobber returned from their excursion.

“How many fish?” Calder asked his younger brother.

Finn grinned. “eleven. You?”

Calder sighed. “I only caught seven.”

Finn shrugged, joining Alvin by the small fire and setting his bucket of fish beside Calder’s basket. “I told you. I know where the fish are.”

“It’s not like we need seven fish, or eleven,” Stoick laughed. “Between the two of you we’ll have enough food to feed an army...and there’s only five of us!”

Gobber joined the boys at the fire and started helping Alvin begin to cook up the fish. “Do we still have some bread?”

Finn reached for one of their packs and began rummaging through it. “Got some.” He pulled out two small loaves of bread. “There’s a jug of ale in here too,” Finn grinned.

“Let’s save that for later,” Stoick said. “We can drink the ale when we watch the sunset.”

“Watch the sunset!” Alvin protested. “Why would we do that?”

Stoick shrugged. “Because it’s beautiful.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Valka,” Alvin shook his head. “You’re turning sentimental.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a little sentiment,” Gobber laughed, cuffing Alvin on the shoulder.

If any vikings had been near that clearing that day they would have heard the boisterous laughter, the shouts, and the general buzz of activity coming from the clearing and they would have smiled. The joyful camaraderie was indeed infectious.

When the sun began to set they all sat by the stream, their feet in the water, watching the sunset--despite Alvin's many protests--and passing the jug of ale between them. Stoick looked to both sides, taking in the sight of his friends. He decided it hadn't been such a bad idea after all, this camping trip. Everyone needed a break now and then. And this friendship was more than worth whatever trouble he'd been in when he returned home.

 


	15. Chapter 15

 Stoick watched the snow falling with some trepidation. He was standing up on the platform outside of his grandmother’s home, looking out over the grey seas. Dark, broiling clouds marred the skies. It wasn’t an unusual sight for Berk. It wasn’t the simple sight of a storm rolling in that had Stoick’s heart feeling heavy inside his chest.

The ships that had gone to look for the Dragon’s Nest had not yet returned. It had been three months.

“There is no need to worry, child,” Gunvor Haddock came to stand beside her grandson, placing her wrinkled hand on his shoulder. “They will be here before the true winter sets in.”

“And if they aren’t?”

“Then I guess you’ll be chief,” Gunvor smirked. “Thor save us.”

Stoick tried to smile at his grandmother’s humor, but he wasn’t really in the mood.

He soon left his position up on the platform where the Elder’s house was located and wandered through the village. Everyone was aware of the storm and were preparing. As the sharp wind bit into his arms and face where his skin was exposed, Stoick watched Jerker Bergman and his wife guiding their sheep into the barns. Their nine year old son Silent Sven was riding one of the sheep. Sven had lost his voice when he was three years old. It was the first time he’d seen a dragon face to face. He’d wandered outside during a dragon attack and a Monstrous Nightmare had jumped on him and scared him half to death. It scared the voice out of him at any rate. He’d never spoken again. Luckily Chief Squidface had shown up and killed the dragon or Silent Sven might not even be alive.

All the vikings were leaving their workplaces and headed to their homes. Several vikings were even hammering boards over their windows in the hopes of keeping out the wind and snow.

The falling snow had thickened, but Stoick could still see the village around him so he wasn’t in any hurry to get to his house. He made his way slowly down towards the long ramp down the docks.

“Stoick!” Brenna came running up to him, Valka trailing behind her. “Where are you headed?”

“To the docks.”

“So am I,” Brenna said. “I’m hoping the ships arrive soon, before the storm hits. I’m worried about my father.”

“I am equally worried about my father,” Stoick replied.

“I don’t think the ships are coming back today,” Valka spoke up. “And shouldn’t we be taking shelter? The storm is getting worse.”

Stoick glanced upward, watching the thick, fluffy flakes of snow floating lazily to the ground. “If the wind picks up or the snowfall becomes much heavier than this, we can find shelter,” Stoick said.

The three friends wandered slowly down to the docks, peering out at the sea. They couldn’t see very clearly or very far because of the snow.

“Do you think they found the nest?” Brenna asked. “Maybe that’s why it is taking them so long to return this time.”

“I hope that is the reason, and not something else,” Stoick sighed.

“Do you think...” Valka bit her lip. “Maybe…maybe all of them are gone this time. Someone always dies when they go looking for the Dragon Nest but what if...what if...”

“Valka, stop thinking like that,” Brenna said harshly. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

The teenagers watched the horizon, or at least as far as they could see towards the horizon despite the snow, and waited.

They were soon rewarded for their patience.

Stoick was the first to see the vague outlines of the sails in the distance.

“I think I see a boat!”

Brenna and Valka leaned forward, peering through the swirling flakes of snow.

“I see them too!” Brenna said. “They’re coming home!”

Valka stomped her feet to get them warm. She could hardly feel them, they were going numb. Her fingers were stiff and numb too. But inside she began to feel a spark of warmth as she caught sight of the sails through the storm and watched their approach. Her mother was on one of those ships.

Stoick was counting the sails. “There’s two less ships returning than left.”

Brenna sighed. “Someone always dies.”

The teens ran further down the docks, to where the boats were headed. As the ships pulled into the docks, vikings leapt from them and were thrown ropes from others on board and ships were soon secured. The three teens were soon separated from each other as they ran forward among the crowd of viking exiting the boats, searching for their relatives.

“Dad!” Brenna called out again and again. “Dad!”

“Over here, Bren,” Uffe Bergman jumped up onto the dock and wrapped his daughter in a hug. “What are you doing out in this storm?”

“Waiting for you!”

“Well get inside, child. I’ve got to unload the ships and then I’ll be home. I promise.”

Brenna ran back up the docks and toward the village, a smile on her face.

It hadn’t taken Stoick long to locate his father. Squidface was shouting orders and directing traffic beside an unusually full boat. Squidface helped another viking off the boat and then noticed Stoick. “What are you doing? You should be inside.”

“Can I help with something, father?”

“Go help the men unloading what’s left of our provisions. And we caught another Zippleback for the training arena.”

“Did you find the nest?”

“No. We lost two boats but only three lives. We managed to save most of the people from the boats that were lost. That’s why our boats are overcrowded. Oh, and Stoick...your friend, Valka...her mother was one of the three that we lost.”

Stoick stood still. He couldn’t move. Valka’s mother was dead?

Valka was still running through the crowded docks, searching for her mother. Suddenly she was caught in the strong arms of her Uncle Tue. “Valka, child, you should not be out in this weather.”

“Uncle Tue! Where’s Mom?”

“Get back to the village and out of the storm, Valka.”

Valka looked up into her Uncle’s face. The snow was falling harder than it had been and his face was blurred by it. But she could see enough in his eyes to know something terrible had happened.

“Get inside, Valka. I’ll come see you and your father after the storm is over. Go on, child.”

Valka turned and ran. She slipped on her way up the docks and fell. She put her hands out to brace her fall and felt her wrist snap on the impact. Crying out in pain, she grabbed her wrist and struggled to her feet, running once more. She ran all the way home.

When she burst into her house her father pulled her farther in and shut the door. “I thought you weren’t going to get home in time. The storm is getting worse!”

“The ships returned!”

“Did they find the nest?”

Valka shook her head, trembling from head to toe. Her father scooped her up and carried her toward the fireplace. He sat down in front of it, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around her.

“I broke my wrist.”

Sten Agnarsson took his daughter’s wrist in his own and carefully bound it tight using a strip of his shirt that he tore off.

“Uncle Tue wouldn’t tell me where mother was.”

Sten went very still.

Valka twisted in his arms so she could see his face. “Does that mean she’s...she’s...”

Sten’s grip on his daughter tightened. He rested his chin on the top of her head and sighed heavily. “Yes, Valka. That is exactly what that means.”

When the storm had finally passed, there was a gathering in the Great Hall to take a roll call and make sure no one was lost to the storm. When that had been taken care of, the three deaths from the search for the Dragon’s Nest were announced and then a feast was held in their honor and stories were told of all the deeds they had done in life and so they passed into legend.

Thora Agnarsson. Wife and Mother. Sigrid Ingerman, only twenty-five years old. And Boil Gulbrandson a single man of forty-nine years of age.

Stoick sat beside his father at the head table but his eyes were focused across the room, on Valka and her father. Sten seemed to be cut out of stone, his face was expressionless and his eyes unmoving. Valka, on the other hand, was weeping. Her shoulders were shaking from her sobs and her eyes were red. She kept blowing her nose on the handkerchiefs that Brenna kept handing to her. Stoick wished he could help her somehow. But what was he supposed to do, or say? And so he simply watched from across the room, his heart silently aching.

 


End file.
